Harry Potter and the Eternal Darkness
by Jaddis
Summary: Fourteen years ago, Voldemort transferred a part of his soul to Harry. Now as grusome accidents occur around Harry, he soon realizes that it's starting to take a life of it's own. A new evil is rising, one that might even be more powerful than Voldemort.
1. Living in Hell

So, this is another story I'm started. I don't own Harry Potter, or any other characters in J.K. wonderful universe, just so you know. sigh If only...

Harry Potter and the Eternal Darkness

It was an unusually hot day on Privet Drive. The sun scorched with a white-hot passion on the inhabitants of the neighborhood, driving them into their homes. There was only one person who was outside today.

Harry Potter wearily wiped sweat from his brow as he continued to pull out the weeds in his aunt's garden. He had been working for hours, with no breaks, yet Harry didn't feel tired. All he felt now was the same cold emptiness that dementors seemed to bring with them. But there were no dementors on Privet Drive; they were inside of him, driving away every good memory and forcing Harry to relive Cedric Diggory's death over and over again.

Harry pulled on a particularly stubborn weed, ignoring his stomach aching with hunger and the pain flaring in his ribs. If he didn't finish weeding the garden by the time Uncle Vernon came home from work, he would be in even more pain then he already was in now. An hour later, Harry, tired and sore, finally finished and he stood, brushing the dirt from his jeans.

Suddenly, the world spun around and Harry could feel his stomach churn violently. He pushed down the bile rising in his throat and stumbled into the house, gasping for air. Ever since Harry had returned from Hogwarts, he had been getting dizzy spells. He figured it was stress combined with the fact he hadn't had a proper meal since the end of term.

Harry walked into the kitchen, where his aunt was vigorously scrubbing down the counters.

"It's about time you finished," Aunt Petunia snapped, glaring at her nephew with disgust, "Start mowing the lawn and don't get dirt in the house, I just finished cleaning it."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry said softly, still feeling queasy. He walked out of the back door and was opening the shed, when his stomach lurched so hard, he stumbled to the ground. Harry's head pounded, as though he had been hit with a hundred bludgers at the same time. He tried to crawl to the shed, but collapsed, retching painfully in the grass. It couldn't hurt to lie down for a few minutes. He would finish the before his Uncle Vernon came home. Harry curled into a ball , resting his head on his knees, and before he knew it he dozed off, once again seeing Cedric lifeless body, Voldemort's gleaming, scarlet eyes...

The first thing Harry was aware of when he opened his eyes was that it was dark outside. How long had he slept? Harry had just stood up when he heard something that made his heart skip a beat.

"BOY!" Uncle Vernon yelled, his voice carrying from the house. A second later, he stormed out of the house like an angry bull, his face an ugly shade of purple. "Why haven't you mowed the lawn?" he snarled, putting his fat face in front of Harry.

Harry gulped. "I'm sorry, Sir," he stammered, "I fell asleep-"

He was cut off as Uncle Vernon's fist slammed into his face. He would've fallen if his uncle hadn't grabbed him by his collar. " Listen, Freak, you get stop lazing about and get to work, or I'll break every bone in your worthless body," he snarled, shaking Harry so hard that his teeth rattled.

"Please, Sir," Harry said quietly, hating the pleading tone in his voice, "I don't feel well. Can't I do it tomorrow?" He braced himself for the blow, but to Harry's relief, his uncle just snorted and stepped back.

"Fine," he said irritably, "but you'll do it first thing tomorrow, and no dinner of breakfast. Now thank me for my generosity.

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said dully. Uncle Vernon pushed Harry roughly toward the house, knocking him over. Harry got up slowly and went to his room before his uncle changed his mind. Harry collapsed on his small bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He had sent Hedwig over to the Burrow for her own safety, so Harry was left with no one, not even his friends.

Ron, Herminoe, and Sirius sent Harry letters daily, but they never said anything about Voldemort, only useless tidbits, such as, 'How are you holding up?' or 'Just hang in there, we'll see you soon.' Harry wanted to scream in frustration. How did they think he was holding up? He had just witnessed one of his classmate's murder. He knew that they knew what was going on, and the fact that his friends weren't telling him made Harry want to send them howlers. Harry had always expected Sirius to be there for him, but his letters were just a frustrating. Harry had never felt more alone in his life.

That was one reason why Harry didn't tell them about the beatings. If they kept him in the dark, he would leave them out too. The main reason Harry kept quiet, the part he hated himself for, was that he truly was afraid of his uncle, and a small part of himself believed he deserved it. He didn't need anyone's pity or concern. As far as Harry was concerned, he had killed Cedric.

That night, in his dreams, Harry was once facing Voldemort in the graveyard. Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry's scar and screamed, "Crucio!" Harry collapsed, screaming in agony, his body twitching and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. _Please just let it end_, Harry thought. _I wand to die._ The curse was released and Voldemort changed into Uncle Vernon. Harry let out a weak cry as his uncle's fist connected with his ribs.

"Please, Sir," Harry begged, as he tried vainly to fend off the blows. He spotted four figures approach and gave a cry of relief when he saw it was Dumbledore, Ron, Sirius, and Herminoe.

"Thank God," he gasped, "Please help me." Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking amused.

"Why would we help you? You know you deserve it."

"I didn't know, I swear!" Harry cried, tears welling in his eyes. "Ron, Herminoe-" he looked at them pleadingly. "You're my friends, you'll help me. I didn't kill Cedric."

"You're not our friend," Ron said, glaring at Harry with pure hatred. "You're a murderer. Because of you, You-Know-Who is back again. He kicked Harry in the head, sneering mockingly.

"We would be better off without you. I don't know why we put up with you for so long." Herminoe spat, "All you cause is death." She slashed her wand and painful boils erupted all over Harry. Harry was sobbing at this point, his body shaking with fear and grief.

"Professor," Harry turned to his headmaster. "You understand. Tell them I didn't kill him."

Dumbledore stared at Harry coldly, his eyes showing disappointment. "I truly believed you would be a great wizard, but you cannot even stand up to your uncle. I do not know why I ever tried to protect you, when you cannot protect yourself."

He waved his wand at Harry and said harshly, "Avada Kedevra!" Harry woke up screaming, the green light still flickering behind his eyelids, like a projection on a screen. Uncle Vernon barged into the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I've had enough of you waking us up!" Uncle Vernon yelled, towering over Harry. "You're going to shut up once and for all!" He grabbed Harry by the hair and threw him to the floor. Harry had a split second that he could've made a run for it, but his dream still echoed vividly in his mind, and he hesitated.

Uncle Vernon kicked Harry in the face, catching him in the jaw. Blood poured out of Harry's mouth as his uncle picked him up and punched him repeatedly in the face. Harry was then thrown on the bed, all the fight gone from him. Uncle Vernon took off his belt and started whipping Harry.

"Stop- please- God, it hurts!" Harry begged, completely breaking down in tears. Uncle Vernon roughly pushed Harry on his back and hit Harry's face. Harry lifted his arm in defense only to find it in his uncle's grasp. He screamed as Uncle Vernon twisted his arm, causing it to snap like a twig. Uncle Vernon slapped Harry once more before pushing his head down with a pillow.

Harry tried to fight back, but he was already so weak, and slowly running out of air. Just as Harry went limp, his uncle released him. Harry gasped for air, as pain shot down his body.

"Have you learned your lesson, boy?" Uncle Vernon's breath in his ear made Harry shiver.

"Yes," Harry whispered and the last thing he heard before the darkness surrounded him was the door slamming.

Every bone, every ligament, and every nerve in his body hurt. Fire spread throughout his body. Harry couldn't think, couldn't breathe. A parasite crawled under his skin, clawing at him while screaming viciously. He was so hot, but the parasite thrived in the heat. Harry vomited, then retreated once again into sweet oblivion.

Suddenly, a warmth seeped into his body. The parasite withdrew, settling once again beyond the sidelines. Drops of cold liquid fell upon Harry. It couldn't be raining; he was inside. Harry pushed himself forward into the light. Instantly, agonizing pain swept through him. Harry opened his eyes, despite the fact it felt as if a brick was lying on his face.

A gentle, soothing cry rang out, making Harry feel at ease. He was lying on his bed where his uncle left him. The sheets around him was stained with his own blood. Something else was different.

There was another cry directly above him. Harry started and gasped in pain immediately as he noticed Fawkes perched on his headboard.

"Fawkes?" Harry gasped. Then a thought came into his sore head. "Please, get Dumbledore." Fawkes let out a reassuring chirp that instantly made Harry feel safe. Then in a burst of fire, he was gone. Harry didn't know how Fawkes knew he was in trouble, but then again, ever since Harry's second year, he had been fond of Harry.

Harry gasped as his stomach churned painfully. He expected for it to go away just as quickly, but now his head pounded as bile rose in his throat. He vomited over the side of the bed and was vague aware of blood dripping down his chin. Time seemed to slow down as Harry fell off the bed and landed with an loud thump on the floor. Harry prayed that Dumbledore would come, then fell unconscious once again.

Please review! I'll give you my undying friendship. **; )**


	2. Go Towards the Light

Yeah, I know, the abused Harry plot has been overdone. But, for some reason I enjoy them, and I thought I'd give it a shot. There are new plot twists, including, kidnappings, life-threatening illnesses, and horcruxes that have a life of their own. BWHAHAHAHA!! Great, now my throat hurts. Please review. They make my day, though flames don't make it.

Chapter 2

Meanwhile, the Order of the Phoenix was having a meeting. Actually, it was less than a meeting than it was an argument. The members were gathered around in the dining room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, Sirius's childhood home.

"He has a right to know!" Sirius exclaimed, " For God's sake, he just faced Voldemort a few weeks ago."

"He is still just a child," Molly Weasley replied, glaring fiercely at Sirius, "And it is really none of his concern-" She was cut off as Sirius stood up, his chair falling over with a bang.

"Harry has more rights than anyone to know what's going on," Sirius snarled, "But you keep him in the dark-" He rounded on Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting at the head of the table.

"It is best that he stays with his aunt and uncle," Dumbledoe said calmly, "I plan to have him brought here by Friday."

"If you don't mind, Albus," Remus said, who was looking peaky and exhausted , "I will volunteer to pick up Harry."

"I want to go too!" Tonks spoke up from the other side of the room. Several other members agreed including, Moody and Kingsley. Just as Dumbledore finally called the meeting to an end, a burst of flames appeared in the room, bringing with it, a large, scarlet bird. Everyone immediately looked curiously at the phoenix. Even though Fawkes sometimes stayed with his master during the meetings, most of the time he was very independent, going where and when he pleased.

To everyones' shock, Fawkes starting squawking and flapping his wings, covering everyone in feathers. Dumbledore tried to calm him down, only to find himself being thrown forward as Fawkes grabbed the headmaster's emerald sleeve with his sharp claws and pulled him with his superior strength.

"What the hell is wrong with your bloody bird?" Sirius asked, looking slightly amused. Molly glared at Sirius for his language before turning to Dumbledore.

"You don't think something is wrong, do you?" she asked fretfully, "Could Harry be in trouble?"

At this statement, Fawkes let out his loudest squawk yet and bobbed his head.

"That's it. I don't care if I get caught, I'm getting Harry." Sirius made towards the door, only to be stopped by Remus.

"Don't act rashly," he said calmly, "We don't know Harry's in trouble." Fawkes squawked in protest, and Sirius gave his friend an I-told-you-so look.

"I will go to Privet Drive and check on Harry. I am sure everything is fine." Dumbledore said, really quite worried, though he would never admit it. He grabbed Fawkes's tail and with another small explosion of fire, they were gone.

He appeared in a small, cramped bedroom at Number 4, Privet Drive. He immediately noticed the dozens of locks on the doors, then the blood staining the floor. What he saw next would be forever etched in his memories. What appeared to be a bundle of rags lying next to the bed was actually Harry. His entire body was soaked in blood and covered in welts. Noting the vomit on the bed and around Harry, Dumbledore carefully approached his pupil.

The old wizard bent down on his knees and closely examined Harry. He felt physically sick when he saw the odd angle of Harry's left arm, and the fingerprint-shaped bruises on it. Dumbledore closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stench of blood and vomit. He tenderly placed a wrinkled hand on Harry's forehead to find him burning up. Dumbledore debated on whether he should risk moving Harry or send help here.

But the thought of staying in the same house as those despicable muggles disgusted Dumbldore, and he decided to move Harry; he would take care of his relatives later. Dumbledore conjured a stretcher and levitated Harry on it. At this moment, Harry groaned. He let out a rasping cough and Dumbledore was horrified to see blood spurting from his lips. Harry cried out again as tremors started

to seize his body.

"Please...No...belt...I'll...be...good...Uncle." These words broke Dumbledore's heart. It took all of his will power not to barge in Vernon Dursley's room and curse him. Harry whimpered and cracked his eyes open. "Professor Dum-?" Harry coughed so violently, he nearly fell off the stretcher. Dumbledore gently laid a hand on Harry's chest.

"Calm down, Harry" he said quietly, as to not scare the poor boy even more. "I am here, you are safe." Despite the obvious pain he was in, Harry smiled weakly. He reached out his unbroken arm, searching for something. Dumbledore understood and took Harry's smaller hand in his own, squeezing it slightly.

Dumbledore conjured a goblet and turned it into a portkey. After placing several charms around Harry so he would be comfortable, he activated the portkey and, with a gentle tug, both student and headmaster were traveling in a blur of many colors. They landed in the hospital wing, the goblet clattering to the floor.

"POPPY!" Dumbledore's loud voice shook the windows and echoed through the wall of Hogwarts. Dumbledore levitated Harry gently on the nearest bed.

"What is it, Albus," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, rushing out of her office, looking surprised. " Oh my!" she gasped as she spotted Harry bloody form. "What happened to the poor child?"

"It was his relatives." Dumbledore replied heavily, as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Harry. Dumbledore felt as if he had aged a hundred years in that moment. Madam Pomfrey continued checking over Harry, but Dumbledore didn't miss the flash of fury that traveled across her face. After a few moments, she turned to the headmaster, looking both angry and desperate.

"He's in very bad shape, Albus," she said bluntly, " Welts and bruises covering ninety-nine percent of his body, his arm broken in three places, his jaw bone dislocated, not to mention several broken ribs, internal bleeding, and a possible concussion. I need Severus."

It must have been serious if she needed Severus Snape,who was almost as good as a healer as Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore walked into her office, lit her fireplace, and threw a pinch of Floo Powder in the flames. He stuck his head in the fire and shouted, "Severus's office." For once the sensation of his head spinning while his body stayed still didn't bother Dumbledore; he already felt dizzy and lightheaded.

He opened his eyes to find Snape sitting at his desk, looking over a book. He turned around, hearing Dumbledore arrive. "I need you to bring blood- replenishing potions, healing salve, anything else you have for injuries to the hospital wing immediately." he said hurriedly.

Snape knew from Dumbledore's twinkle less gaze and his lack of greeting that it was serious.

Dumbledore pulled his head out of the fire as soon as Snape stood up and rushed over to Harry's side.

"Hold his jaw while I mend it before he hurts himself even more." Madam Pomfrey said quickly. Sure enough, Harry was letting out tiny whimpers as he clenched his jaw in pain. Dumbledore ran his hand through Harry's hair to calm him down, just as Snape arrived from Madam Pomfrey's office, holding several vials of potions. He froze when he saw Harry.

"Is that Potter? What happened to him?" he asked incredulously.

"Severus, I need those potions now!" Madam Pomfrey yelled as Harry started to go into a seizure. Dumbledore held him down as gently as he could, while Harry's body jerked in an arc off the bed and his eyes rolled back. "He's lost too much blood and he's going into shock!" Madam Pomfrey cried.

Snape tried to stabilize Harry, while Madam Pomfrey tended to his injuries. After several potions were poured down his throat, Harry's body went limp. "We've just managed to save him," Madam Pomfrey said, "If you had arrived a few minutes longer-"

She was cut off as Snape let out a string of curses. "Dammit, when we mended his ribs, one of them punctured his stomach!" Harry gurgled as blood erupted from his mouth. Madam Pomfrey grabbed a tongue depressor and placed it between Harry's mouth, as he continued to choke.

"We're losing him!"

"His pulse is slowing down!"

"Hold on, Harry. You are going to make it."

Harry could hear the words but they made no sense to him. Just like when he was unconscious, Harry was in a dark place. Strangely, he had never felt more safe and comfortable. He could see his parents waving at him from the end of a long tunnel. Harry started to run towards them, but then the voices surrounded him again.

"It's too late, Albus. We've done all we could."

"No. He cannot die, not after all he has been through."

Harry could hear the desperation in the second voice, and stopped to listen. He thought he should go back to the voices, and yet his parents were only a few feet away. He could finally be at peace.

" Come on, Harry. Fight it. You can do it. Listen to my voice."

Harry looked behind him, where a bright light was shining. That must be where the voices came from. He took another step towards his parents, then he thought of Sirius, Ron, and Hermione. He couldn't leave them, not yet. Harry took a deep breath, and before he could change his mind, he stepped into the white light.

Thanks to all the people who reviewed and put me on Author Alert. Please Review! :)


	3. Denying the Truth

_I'm really surprised and pleased of all the support I've gotten for this story. Let's keep it up! Also, I've got another story, Dumbledore's Boggart, on my profile. Check it out!_

Chapter 3

Harry slowly opened his eyes. Even though he didn't have his glasses, Harry could tell he was no longer at Privet Drive. Instead of his worn-out bed with half of the springs broken in the mattress, he was lying on something soft and warm. Harry groaned as his head throbbed. It took him a minute to realize it was his scar. The last time his scar hurt Voldemort was near. Harry quickly sat up and yelled as pain gripped his abdomen like an anaconda was squeezing him.

"Easy, Harry," a familiar voice said, gently pushing him back down, "You are still very sore."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry said, confused. He vaguely remembered Dumbledore being at his house, and then his parents waving at him. He felt his glasses being placed on his face. Now Harry could see that he was in the hospital wing in Hogwarts. Sitting beside him was Albus Dumbledore, looking exactly as he did last term, with his long, snow-white beard, half-moon spectacles, and crooked nose. Harry could have sworn his headmaster's eyes were rather red.

"What happened, Sir?" Harry asked, "Why am I here?"

Dumbledore gazed at Harry solemnly, making him feel as if he was being x-rayed. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

Harry suddenly remembered his uncle beating him and Fawkes showing up in his room. Harry felt a jolt of horror. No! Dumbledore couldn't have found out his secret. He had hidden the abuse for years, only for it to be exposed in a single moment. Harry remembered his dream before his uncle had beaten him and the cold, harsh words Dumbledore had spoken.

_I do not know why I ever tried to protect you when you cannot protect yourself._

What must Dumbledore think of him now? He was probably ashamed that the Boy-Who-Lived got beaten by his own uncle, not to mention disappointed and disgusted at him. Little did Harry know that Dumbledore was performing Legilimancy on him and knew exactly what he was feeling.

Dumbledore sighed, "Harry, it was not your fault."

"Wha- what do you mean?" Harry said, his voice an octave higher, "I just tripped down the stairs." It sounded even stupider saying out loud, but Harry would never admit it out loud.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, the twinkle missing from his eyes. "Fawkes brought me to your room. I know exactly what happened. Your uncle admitted to it when I visited their house."

"Well, he's lying!" Harry shouted, "Nothing happened! I fell down, okay? Just leave me alone!"

"I need to know how far your uncle's abuse went so we can have him arrested." Dumbledore said, putting a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. ''

Harry felt cold anger burning inside him. He slapped Dumbledore's hand away from his shoulder. "Since when do you care?" he snapped, "YOU LEFT ME THERE TO DIE!"

Dumbledore actually recoiled; Harry could see the visible hurt in his eyes, but he didn't care. Blaming it all on his headmaster was so much easier than blaming it on himself. Harry rolled over, turning his back towards Dumbledore.

"Just go away, please." Harry was horrified to hear his voice crack. If Dumbledore left now, Harry could still keep control of his emotions and everything would be fine. To his great surprise, Dumbledore didn't try to talk to him anymore. After a minute Harry turned around to find Dumbledore had left. Harry knew he would have to talk about it eventually, but for now he was content to stay here, hidden from the world.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was walking towards his office with a heavy heart. Harry's words wouldn't stop bouncing around in his head. You left me there to die. Who was he kidding? Harry was right. He did leave him there to die. Harry couldn't possibly ever forgive him. The truth was Dumbledore didn't knew if he could forgive himself.

Dumbledore did think of Harry as a grandson in a way and cared for him more than he would ever admit. He kept seeing that devastating look in his eye and hearing the desperation in his voice. Dumbledore said the password to the gargoyle outside of his office, climbed up the long set of stairs, and entered his office.

He sat wearily in his desk chair and sighed, petting Fawkes. The phoenix let out a reassuring cry, nuzzling Dumbledore's hand. He smiled weakly at his feathery companion.

"You are the only one who did the right thing concerning Harry." Dumbledore let out another sad sigh. "I really let him down." Fawkes chirped and nudged him again. "I suppose I will give him some space and time, and maybe, eventually, he will come to me again."

"Personally, I don't know why you bothered looking out for the boy for this long," Phineas Nigellus said, "If you ask me, he's just a ungrateful little-"

"Enough," said Dumbledore harshly. He quickly stood up and retreated to his quarters, so none of the portraits could see the sudden tears in his eyes. It was only then did he let the tears pour down his face in rivulets.

Over the next few days, while Harry was recovering in the hospital wing, he found himself falling into a deep depression. So far Dumbledore hadn't returned, and Harry was grateful for that, but he had to admit he was getting rather lonely. Harry wished Ron and Herminoe could visit, but that would mean telling them the truth.

He was staring out of the window, once again filled with self pity, when Dumbledore came through the door. Harry groaned mentally. He was not in the mood for this right now. Harry took a deep breath and tried to keep his emotions inside him. If he could keep them locked away, Dumbledore would never know how weak he was, mentally and physically. Dumbledore sat beside Harry and gazed out of the window with Harry. After a moment of this, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"What do you want?" Harry asked wearily. He didn't care that he sounded rude. Dumbledore peered at him from over his half-moon spectacles.

"I was hoping we could talk again." he said. Harry said nothing but continued to look out the window at the setting sun. "Listen, Harry. I know you feel ashamed about this, but you really need to open up to someone."

"Like you?" Harry said, watching an owl fly by the window.

"It can be one of you friends or I can contact a professional." he said calmly. Harry turned to face Dumbledore, his eyes blazing.

"So now you think I'm mad!" Harry yelled, "I don't need to talk to anyone. I've dealt with this for years."

"How long, exactly?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ever since I started showing signs of magic-" Harry glared at his headmaster. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not working."

"Well you can't blame an old man for trying," Dumbledore said, shrugging.

"Actually, I can," Harry said irritably, "Don't you have someone else's life to ruin?"

"I just want to help you, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"Just like you helped me for the first ten years of my life! I didn't see you try to help when I practically begged not to go back to my aunt's house. Just like you never helped me with anything! Not with Quirrel or the Chamber of Secrets! I was just your weapon, your pawn to save the world, so you wouldn't have to do anything! So don't give me all this bull about caring. You've never cared."

By now Harry had leaped out of bed and was standing furiously in front of Dumbledore. Harry was breathing roughly, all the the energy suddenly gone from him. Just as Harry was about to storm out of the hospital wing, a sick feeling swept through him. Just like on Privet Drive, his stomach lurched, and to Harry's horror, he vomited all over Dumbledore. One half of him was mortified; the other half thought he deserved it.

Dumbledore merely pulled out his wand and, with a long sweep, made the vomit vanish. He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and guided him back to his bed. Harry was too exhausted at this point to protest. Dumbledore handed Harry a goblet full of a foul-smelling potion.

"This is some Pepper-Up Potion. You had a fever when you arrived here, about 104," he said, "Madam Pomfey said it might return after you wake up."

Harry drank the potion in a single gulp, set the goblet aside, and then fell asleep, just as his head hit the pillow. He vaguely felt his scar burn and a heard a cold, high-pitched laugh echo through his mind.

_I promise next chapter things will start to speed up, like Sirius finding out about the abuse. Let's just say he will be VERY ANGRY! Anyway, thanks again to all the people who put me on their favorites and alerts._


	4. Confrontations and Visions

_So here's the next chapter! Once again, I don't own Harry Potter. Also thanks to 10__th__ Weasley, Animesnape21, Amariposa, and baseballfan1 for reviewing and inspiring me to continue this story._

Chapter 4

Sirius was pacing in his room, like he had he been doing for the past few days. It had been a few days since he had found out what had happened to Harry and Sirius was still fuming. Dumbledore wouldn't let him visit his godson, insisting he needed time alone. If it wasn't for Remus, he would have probably hexed Dumbledore and gone anyway.

However, Remus reminded him, in that calm, patient tone Sirius hated, that it wouldn't do any good to lose his temper. Sirius had been looking forward to Harry visiting him, but now it looked as if he was trapped in his mother's house. Even though Remus was staying with him, loneliness was gnawing away at Sirius's insides.

Despite trying to clear his mind, Sirius recalled when Dumbledore had arrived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, after being gone for hours.

_Several hours had past since Fawkes had interrupted the Order's meeting. Sirius was impatiently sitting at the kitchen table, Remus standing beside him. Tonks had contacted Molly and Arthur, now they had joined them, waiting for any news. _

_Tonks's hair kept changing colors as she stood there anxiously. Molly was fretting, holding her husband in a fierce grip. No one said a word. Other than Remus getting everyone some Firewhiskey, no one moved. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, Dumbledore appeared from the large fireplace in a flash of green fire. _

_He didn't look at anyone as he calmly brushed the soot off of him. That should have immediately alerted Sirius. Finally, he snapped, "Well? Is he okay? What happened?"_

_Everyone looked at Dumbledore curiously and fearfully. He finally looked at everyone, and they instantly noticed that there was no twinkle in his eyes. "Harry is now in the hospital wing at Hogwarts," he said carefully and slowly._

_There was an instant uproar, Sirius and Molly's voices drowning out the rest._

_"He was suppose to be safe!"_

_"I told you he would should have come here!"_

_"Is he okay? What happened?"_

_It took several sparks from Dumbledore's wand to calm everyone down. "I will explain what has happened, as long as everyone remains calm." Obviously, these last words were directed at Sirius, who snorted. "Harry will not be returning to his aunt and uncle's house."_

_Sirius stood up, his eyes burning in rage. He felt more hatred now than he ever had in his life, __even when he confronted Peter two years before. _

_"They hurt him, didn't they? I''LL KILL THEM!" Sirius stormed towards the door, only to be stopped by Dumbledore. _

_"If you do not calm down, Sirius," he said calmly, "I will have to restrain you. Do not make this any harder than it already is."_

_Sirius saw the guilt in Dumbledore's blue eyes, and perhaps that was what made him calm down enough to sit again. "Start speaking," he growled. Everyone looked at Dumbledore, hoping he was wrong._

_Dumbledore looked at Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Arthur, and Molly silently for a moment, wishing he was anywhere else. Truth be told, he was slightly worried that Sirius would lose it. He sighed sadly. _

_"Unfortunately, Sirius is correct," he said quietly. Sirius opened his mouth, but closed it when Remus glared at him. "I will not lie to you; Harry is in very bad condition. The reason I was so long was because Poppy, Severus and I were trying to stabilize him. His heart actually stopped for a few minutes, but we managed to restart it."_

_Molly let out a dry sob, while Sirius's expression turned even darker, if that was possible. All the color had drained from Remus's face. Arthur wearily closed his eyes and rubbed them._

_"What's going to happen to Harry now? If he's not returning to his relatives' house, he can stay with us." Molly immediately agreed._

_"Of course the poor dear can live with us. He's such a sweet boy. Why would anyone do this to him?" Tears started to fall down her face. _

_"He will probably stay at headquarters until school starts, and then I will arrange a more permanent place for him." said Dumbledore, "But I must insist you do not tell anyone about this, especially the children. Harry is already going to have a hard time this year, without the Ministry finding out about this. He can decide if he wants to tell his friends."_

_Everyone agreed. There was no need of getting everyone worked up about this. Everyone stood up and left, leaving Sirius sitting there, thinking of ways to make the Dursleys pay..._

Sirius snarled, much like his dog form, before punching the wall in anger. It didn't change anything, besides nearly breaking his hand. Cursing under his breath, Sirius stormed out of the room. He was seeing Harry, one way or another.

Meanwhile, Harry was lying in bed once again. His fever had come back with a vengeance, and Harry couldn't go ten minutes without emptying his stomach's contents. He groaned as he vomited into the small basin he was holding. Harry's throat burned as he wiped his sleeve across his face. Drained of energy, he settled back against his pillows. Harry moaned again as his stomach lurched.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey appeared from her office. She looked at him sympathetically.

"Is your fever still up?" Harry nodded. "Unfortunely I can't give you any more Pepper-Up Potion. You'll just have to pull through this the Muggle way."

Harry sighed, but quickly looked up as the door opened, and a big, black dog entered the hospital wing. "Padfoot!" Harry exclaimed, looking at Madam Pomfrey, alarmed, "What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore appeared behind the large dog. "Do not worry, Harry," he chuckled, "Madam Pomfrey knows about Sirius's innocence."

"How?" asked Harry, confused.

"She is part of the Order of the Phoenix, an organization that fights Voldemort," said Sirius, who had turned back into his human form, "In fact, your parents and I were in it during the first war."

"What does the Order do?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"You see, Fudge," Sirius said, spitting the minister's name like it was poisonous, "Well, he refuses to admit that Voldemort is back, so we gathered up some of the old members to fight him privately."

"Why doesn't he believe me?" Harry said angrily, "I was there, I fought Voldemort!"

"The first war was a time of great fear and sorrow," Dumbledore said gravely, "Families were killed everyday. No one knew who was working for Voldemort, or if they were under the Imperius Curse. Obviously, Fudge is in denial, even when faced with the truth, because he does not want to deal with that again."

"I want to join the Order," Harry said fiercely, "I want to fight Voldemort."

"Unfortunely, only wizards that have come of age can join the Order," Sirius said, with a sharp glare at Dumbledore. Harry felt slightly pleased that Sirius was also unhappy with the old headmaster.

"I will give you two time to socialize," said Dumbledore, leaving the room with a sweep of his cloak. Sirius stared at Harry blankly for a moment, before giving him a brief hug.

"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked, his gray eyes filled with concern, "Dumbledore said that your fever was back."

Harry groaned. "Besides emptying my lunch every few minutes, I'm great," he said sarcastically.

"Just hang in there," Sirius said, "You'll be fine. So, how was your summer?"

"Oh," said Harry, caught off guard, "It was okay, the same as usual."

They continued making small talk, but Harry couldn't help feeling that Sirius appeared distracted. Occasionally, he would stare at Harry sadly when he thought he wasn't looking. Finally, Harry couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, I give up," he said impatiently, "What's bothering you?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, a little too quickly.

"You keep on staring at me like I'm about to fall over dead at any minute," Harry replied. "Like right now, for example."

"I'm just concerned about you, Harry," Sirius said worriedly. "We all are."

"Why would everyone be worried-" A horrible thought occurred to Harry. Sirius didn't know what had happened this summer, did he? Dumbledore would never betray his trust like that. Then again, Harry never thought Dumbledore would leave him at his relatives to die.

"You-you don't know, do you?" Harry asked, terrified, his voice cracking. What would Sirius think of him now? He would probably taunt him, just like in his dream.

"Yeah," Sirius sighed, "Fawkes came to us during an Order meeting, and we thought something was wrong, so we waited for Dumbledore to return."

"What do you mean by 'we'?" Harry asked timidly, "Who else knows about this?" He was barely aware of that his voice was steadily rising.

"Calm down, Harry," Sirius said cautiously, "Just Remus, Molly, Arthur, and-" He didn't get any further as Harry exploded.

"He told them! I can't believe it! I'll never be able to face them again! They'll just feel sorry for me or think I'm pathetic." Harry shouted. "Why don't you just announce it to the whole world!"

With a final yell of frustration, Harry pushed his way past Sirius. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but pushed it away, too angry at this point to care anymore.

"Harry, just talk to me," Sirius said desperately, as Harry reached the door. But as soon as his hand touched the doorknob, his scar burned, sending white-hot pain down his entire body.

_He was angry. Very angry. All the Death Eaters cowered before the Dark Lord's fury. Voldemort approached his fearful followers. One Death Eater stepped out of the semi-circle and bowed down before his master._

_"I am sorry, my Lord," the man said, "Next time, I will not fail you."_

_"No, Goyle, you will not fail me again. Avada Kedevra!"_

_The bright, green light hit the man on the chest, and he fell over dead. Voldemort looked at the rest of his Death Eaters. _

_"I want Potter," he hissed, his scarlet eyes gleaming, "Bring him to me alive. Do not fail your master again." He pointed his wand at the nearest Death Eater and yelled, "Crucio!"_

Harry's scream blended with the Death Eater's as his scar burned fiercely. He was vaguely aware of someone shouting his name, but he couldn't stop yelling to answer. Only when his scar reduced to throbbing slightly, did he dare open his eyes.

The first thing he was aware of was that he was lying on the floor. The second thing Harry saw was Sirius's face hovering a few inches from his own. Sirius let out a sigh of relief as Harry blinked, disoriented.

"Harry!" he cried, "Thank God! You just collapsed and started thrashing and screaming. Madam Pomfrey should be on her way back with Dumbledore."

Harry groaned. Now he would have to tell his vision to Dumbledore. Apparently, Sirius mistook Harry's groan as a sign of pain, because he practically carried him back to bed. Normally, Harry would have argued with him, but he was afraid if he opened his mouth, he would vomit all over Sirius.

A few minutes later, Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey entered the hospital wing. Sirius was immediately on his feet.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked frantically, "Is he alright?"

"He's lying right beside you," Harry said grumpily, but Sirius just ignored him. Dumbledore gazed calmly at Harry, before focusing his attention on Sirius.

"That was probably another vision Harry had concerning Voldemort," he replied, "If you would care to enlighten us, Harry."

"Actually, I do care," Harry snapped. "Now, if you don't mind-" Harry gasped as his scar burned again. Harry opened his mouth to say he was fine, but screamed as pain shot down his entire body. Harry's screams cut off as he started to choke violently, before vomiting all down his front. It felt as if a huge knife was tearing open his scar. His chest heaved, trying to get oxygen, but it felt as if a giant weight was pressed down on him.

Harry vomited again, seeing red speckles dance across his vision. His body jerked, slowly shutting down from the pain and lack of air. Harry heard the same high-pitched, cold laughter as before, only this time it echoed all around him. Harry heard the voice speak mockingly before he passed out completely.

"_You can not win, Harry Potter._"

_Sorry for the long wait. If you didn't notice this chapter is longer than the others. I don't know when I'll be able to update. But I can promise you it won't be a month. I hate it when people do that!_


	5. Burning Rage

_Crap, it's been almost a month since I updated and I promised not to do that. Truthfully, I just lost of time. I really feel like an idiot. So sorry, and thanks to the people who are still reading this. _

Chapter 5

The days slipped away quickly as the first of September approached. With only a week until Hogwarts started, Dumbledore and Sirius could only watch as Harry drew deeper into himself. Sirius had to return to headquarters; not that Harry really cared.

He knew that it wasn't his godfather's fault that probably most of the Order knew his secret by now. Yet, he couldn't help but feel angry. The rage inside him was like a living thing, growing stronger while slowly eating Harry away.

Maybe some of his anger was from his dreams. Every night Harry saw his friends' jeering faces, filled with disgust and hatred. They always ended with Harry sobbing and begging as the killing curse flew toward him. He would often wake up with tears running down his face. Also, his fever had risen again.

Harry didn't understand what was wrong with him. Normal people didn't get sick and beaten, not to mention have morbid dreams all in the same week. Now after midnight, Harry was lying awake in bed, trying to recover from another dream. His stomach churned weakly.

"Stop that," Harry muttered, knowing it wouldn't help at all. It wasn't like anyone was around to think he was insane. Maybe it would be better if he was mad. After all, insane people weren't aware that they were insane. Harry reached over and grabbed the basin on his nightstand, just in case he was sick again.

Harry's scar throbbed painfully. Of course, now that Voldemort had returned, it would probably hurt even more. He hadn't thought to ask Sirius or Dumbledore what Voldemort was planning. Deep inside, Harry didn't really care. He didn't really care about anything anymore. Harry sat up, feeling anger well up inside him.

It wasn't fair. Why did everything have to happen to him? Why couldn't he just have a break for once? He was angry at Voldemort for ruining his life, angry at his uncle for hating him, and angry at Dumbledore for sending him to hell every summer. Harry was barely aware of his scar, which was now burning, nor was he aware of the dull pounding in his head.

Suddenly, a cold voice entered his thoughts. _If you are angry at everyone, why don't you do something about it? Make them pay. _No, Harry thought, They're still my friends.

_Real friends wouldn't hurt you or leave you to die. You've been having those dreams for a reason. They don't care. Hurt them like they hurt you. _

Harry could almost see the smirk in the high-pitched voice. He started to argue, but then reconsidered. The voice had a point. Why not let them feel an ounce of misery he had felt the last few weeks? Almost like being controlled by a puppeteer, Harry found himself throwing the covers off of him and standing up.

Harry left the hospital wing, after grabbing his wand from the nightstand, leaving the door open behind him. It wasn't until he was outside the gargoyle that he realized he was going to Dumbledore's office. Harry tried to think of the password.

"Sugar Quills?" he said. The gargoyle didn't respond. "Licorice wands? Chocolate frogs?" Harry continued listing all the candies he knew, until the gargoyle finally leaped aside at Mars Bars.

He vaguely remembered loving those as a child. Of course, he was never allowed them, just as he was never allowed anything that brought him happiness.

Feeling furious, Harry stormed up the stairs and into his headmaster's office, not even bothering to knock. For once Dumbledore was not sitting at his desk. Instead it was completely empty, except Fawkes, a great, scarlet phoenix, and the dozing portraits of the previous headmasters' on the wall.

Harry stood silently for a few minutes, before pulling out his wand. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then hissed, "Incendio!" A great burst of fire shot from Harry's wand, instantly spreading across the carpet. He didn't even consider that the spell was strong, too strong. All Harry was aware of was how satisfying it was to see the fire devouring everything in its path.

Harry left just as the fire reached Dumbledore's desk, not wanting to be discovered by the portraits, and especially not Dumbledore himself. Within a few minutes, Harry was back in the hospital wing. He quietly slipped into bed, breathing heavily. He didn't have his Invisibility cloak, so he had to run all the way there and back.

Even though Filch and Mrs. Norris were away for the summer, Peeves might have been lurking around. He didn't want anyone to connect him to the fire. Harry couldn't help but grinning when he thought of the surprise Dumbledore would received. Glad that he had listened to the voice, Harry drifted back to a peaceful sleep.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was at another meeting at Grimmauld Place. Snape was updating the Order on Voldemort's plan, when they were interrupted by Phineas Nigellus's yells from the living room. Everyone was immediately on their feet, wands drawn, running towards the shouts.

Despite his age, Dumbledore was the first one to reach the portrait. Giving off a powerful aura of authority, he asked urgently, "What has happened, Phineas?"

Everyone else waited anxiously, thinking there was another attack. Phineas was leaning over, gasping for air. "I don't know what happened, but I woke up and your office is on fire."

"On fire?" Lupin repeated incredulously, looking as confused as everyone else. It was seemed impossible for a fire to start, especially in the headmaster's office.

"The entire office is consumed in flames, so you can't go by Floo." Phineas said roughly.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said, " I need you to alert the Ministry."

"You don't think it was Death Eaters, do you?" Tonks asked fearfully.

" Right now we need to worry about getting the fire out," Moody said gruffly, his glass eye rolling crazily around his head.

"Alastor is right," Dumbledore said, "If it is as bad as it appears to be, we will need to apparate outside the grounds. Severus, try to find out if Voldemort knows anything about this," he added, ignoring the many flinches that spread through the room at the mention of the name.

Severus left the room, followed by Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, and Kingsley, each group having a different destination. By the time they apparated outside Hogwarts grounds and made it all the way to the headmaster's office, the fire was out of control.

Once Dumbledore stated the password and the gargoyle moved, he was greeted by a great plume of smoke. Kingsley and Lupin backed away, coughing. Dumbledore flicked his wand sharply and, immediately, the smoke retreated toward the ceiling. Kingsley reached the door first and was about to open it, when he was stopped by Moody.

Kingsley glared at Moody, but he just pointed his wand at the door and said, "Aguamenti!"

The door fizzled as the large stream of water hit it. "If we open that door, we'll be fried," the ex-auror said gruffly. "I suggest we move elsewhere before the door collapses."

Dumbledore nodded and led the others back to the corridor. By then McGonagall had arrived with a team of Ministry officials and a few healers wearing lime-green robes. Half an hour later, the fire had been reduced to a few flames. Dumbledore entered his office to see how badly it was damaged. Fortunately, the portraits had been spared, only a few singed. Fawkes had escaped and now was perched on his master's shoulder. He let out a mournful cry as he flew around what remained of the desk and small tables of trinkets.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. It could have been much worse. He was grateful the fire hadn't spread through the school. However, he was still confused as to how it had started in the first place. He mentally reviewed what he had done before leaving for Grimmauld Place, but was at a loss. Fudge had arrived with some aurors and they couldn't figure it out either.

At this moment, Lupin entered the room, stepping around a smoldering pile of ashes. He stood beside the elderly wizard. "Do they know what caused it?" he asked.

"No," Dumbledore sighed again, "And, for once, I have less ideas than Cornelius on what could have happened." He let out a humorless laugh.

"Are you sure it wasn't Death Eaters?" Lupin asked quietly.

"The wards on Hogwarts were still intact. We would have known if any intruders had entered the grounds." Dumbledore replied.

There was a moment of silence before Lupin said, "I think I'll check on Harry. He's probably been really lonely."

"I think he would like the company," Dumbledore said, a small smile appearing on his wrinkled face.

Lupin had just turned around when Moody limped into the room, Kingsley right behind him. "I think we've got a lead." he said roughly. "You're not going to like it," he added.

"I did not really believe I would," Dumbedore said softly, gazing at the two wizards, realizing that they both looked rather disturbed. Lupin had notice this too.

"I was thinking about who would have a reason to do this, when I thought of something," Moody said. He pulled two wands from his robes, then pointed his at the other one. "Prior Incantatio!"

A small jet of fire burst from the wand. Lupin gasped, "So you've got their wand? But who would be so foolish as to leave their wand behind-?"

"He didn't leave it behind," Moody interrupted, "It was already there. This is Potter's wand."

_Again, sorry for the long update. For those of you who are wondering, Harry's vision in the previous chapter will be explained in the next one. Of course, Harry's going to be in __**big**____trouble._


	6. Face to Face

_Kudos to 10thWeasley, who has reviewed the last three chapters. I would've had this chapter up sooner, but I had a stomach virus. Also, I've had a writer's block. I know where I'm going with the story, but I don't know how to get there. Ever had that happen? So anyway, here you go._

_Chapter Six_

"Harry!"

"No," Harry groaned, turning over and pulling the sheets over his head. His head was pounding viciously, and he wanted nothing more than to just go back to sleep. However, the voice that was insistently calling his name disagreed.

"Harry! Wake up!"

Harry opened his eyes, feeling disoriented and groggy. He fumbled for his glasses, blinking rapidly, trying to clear his foggy vision.

"What's going on?", he asked, confused. His mind slowly became alert and he saw Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, and a big, black wizard standing beside his bed. Harry immediately noticed none of them looked very happy. In fact, Moody was looking rather angry and the twinkle had vanished from Dumbledore's eyes.

"Has there been an attack?," Harry asked quickly, fear rushing through him, "Is someone hurt?"

"Actually, Harry, " Lupin said slowly, appearing rather nervous, "Someone set Dumbledore's office on fire."

"What!" Harry gasped, "Who was it?" He could hardly believe it. How could someone break into Dumbledore's office and ignite it without someone knowing it?

"We found the wand that did it," Lupin replied. Something about the way he answered Harry caused an alarm to ring loudly in his head. Something wasn't right. Harry told himself he was being ridiculous. But if so, why wouldn't Lupin look him in the eyes?

Moody pulled a wand from his robes, and handed it to Harry, who gazed at it dumbly. The alarm in his head had now heightened to a deafening tone. Harry regarded everyone in shock and disbelief.

"Wait," he said slowly, "This looks like my wand..." His eyes widened to the size of galleons as realization hit him with the force of an oncoming train. "No!" he stuttered, "You know me... I would never- there's no way, I was asleep!"

Harry was barely aware that he was rambling. All he knew was that unless he could get them to believe him, he would be taken to Azkaban. Harry mentally shuddered. He couldn't transform into an animal like Sirius, he would go mad in there.

Dumbledore put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "No one is blaming you, Harry," he said quietly, "But we need to know the last thing you remember."

"I-I don't know," Harry said nervously, trying to discreetly wipe his suddenly sweaty hands on the sheets. It felt as if a snitch had been forced down his throat; he couldn't breathe. "I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep and my scar started hurting. After that I don't know, I'm sorry.

"Did you see anyone or hear anything suspicious?" Lupin asked, finally looking into Harry's eyes. Despite the small smile on his face, Harry could see the anxiety in his ex-professor's eyes.

"No," Harry said, "I was trying to go back to sleep and then-" Harry stopped, as foggy, hidden memories drifted in his mind.

_He was upset that Sirius knew the secret he had been hiding for so long; angry that Dumbledore had sent him to his near death. His scar was burning, but suddenly a little voice spoke up, suggesting that he didn't have to take being treated like scum. Why get mad when he could get even?_

_Harry knew the voice was wrong, yet he felt captivated by the high-pitched, cold whisper in his ears. Even as the noble part of him argued, he felt the pain in his scar fade away, and he knew that the voice could make the pain go away. All he had to do was do as it said...._

"No," Harry whispered to himself, as a vivid picture of him in his headmaster's office, grinning with satisfaction as the flames spread throughout the circular room. The snitch in his throat grew into a bludger, cutting off all oxygen to his body.

"I was angry at you," Harry said just above a whisper, "but I would never do that. That's not me." Harry closed his eyes as the world spun around him, yet he remained motionless, like a captured snitch. "What's happening to me?" he said, true terror fighting its way up, trying to escape.

It wasn't until Dumbledore gently squeezed his shoulder that Harry realized he was shaking, and a cold sweat was running down his pale face.

"Do not worry, Harry," he said calmly, "We will figure this out. Everything will be fine."

If Harry had opened his eyes right then he would have notice the fear in Dumbledore's old, wizened eyes. But Harry kept his eyes shut, as if blocking it all inside his head.

"What are we going to tell the Ministry?" Moody asked harshly. Harry could almost see his glass eye rolling crazily around in his head.

"We will tell them nothing," Dumbedore said firmly. "As of now, we do not know the cause of the fire. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to start sweeping the ashes from my office."

Harry opened his eyes and saw a small smile tug at the corner of his headmaster's mouth, causing his mustache to twitch.

"Here, Professor," Harry said, giving Dumbledore his wand, "Just in case."

Dumbledore pocketed Harry's wand, smiling sadly at him. "That is very noble of you, Harry," he said.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," Harry said, "What if you or anyone else had been in there?"

"I will do everything in my power to help you," Dumbledore said, giving Harry's shoulder one last pat, before exiting the hospital wing, his vibrant robes sweeping out behind him like a cape. Moody and the other wizard left too, leaving Lupin with Harry.

"You shouldn't be here," Harry muttered, now avoiding Lupin's gaze. "I might hurt you."

"I trust you," Lupin said, the sincerity in his voice causing Harry to look up. "I know you would never hurt me on purpose."

"What if it happens again?" Harry blurted out, "What if I actually hurt someone next time?" Harry was barely aware of his voice rising hysterically.

"Dumbledore will help you," Lupin said calmly, "Everything will be alright." He smiled gently at Harry.

"Are you going to tell Sirius?" Harry asked, suddenly anxious.

"I'm sure Dumbledore will leave that decision to you," Lupin said, "You should get some rest, Harry. You've been through a lot today."

"Goodbye, Professor," Harry said, lying back in bed, wanting to sleep, and yet, afraid to drift off.

"Call me Remus," Lupin said, "I'm not your teacher anymore." He smiled gently at Harry before leaving the hospital wing, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Several hours later, Dumbledore had finally finished cleaning his office. He knew he had to report to Fudge about the fire, but kept procrastinating. He couldn't help but worry about Harry. Dumbledore knew Voldemort would eventually try to possess Harry, but not this soon. When he had looked in Harry's eyes, Dumbledore saw no sign of Voldemort lurking within him, not even a shadow.

Voldemort was desperately trying to get to Harry, his anger and frustration growing by the day. Severus had been routinely informing Dumbledore on his recent plans, but so far Voldemort was playing it safe. Obviously, he didn't want to expose himself to the wizarding world, at least not yet.

After his last attempt, Voldemort had been particularly furious, taking it out on his followers.

Dumbledore vividly recalled Severus limping into his office, shaking from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. Dumbledore was true to his word. He would do anything in his power to help Harry. He hoped he would figure out something before it was too late. He couldn't lose Harry. He refused to lose him.

He had already failed Harry, leaving him at his uncle's mercy, or, more appropriately, lack of mercy. Dumbledore knew it would take time for Harry to completely trust him again. But he would make it up to him. He wondered if he should inform Sirius, but then decided against it. He would give Harry a chance to tell his godfather. Meanwhile, Dumbledore would have to find a way to suppress Voldemort's influence over Harry.

He knew Moody and Kingsley would never tattle on him to Fudge, but Dumbledore knew they were displeased with his decision. Not that they wanted Harry to go to Azkaban, but he could tell that they wanted to take more drastic measures. As Dumbledore sat behind his desk, which was still intact, despite the scorch marks, he thought of a solution. He knew Harry wouldn't like it, but it was for his own good. Looking sadly at his ruined office, Dumbledore sighed and sent a patronus for Snape.

It was exactly a week until Hogwarts began again, and Harry found himself becoming restless and edgy. On the bright side, he was free to explore the castle, as long as he didn't over exert himself. Harry had already finished his summer homework, so throughout the day he would often relax by the lake and then join the staff in the Great Hall for dinner.

No one had mentioned the incident in Dumbledore's office, and beside a few Ministry officials occasionally dropping in, all was calm. Harry presumed no one knew he was the one who had ignited Dumbledore's office. However, sometimes he would catch Snape giving him a dark, chilling scowl, but that could have been from Harry's presence. He was looking forward to returning to class and seeing Ron and Hermione again. Hopefully, they didn't know why he had been here all summer.

It was a relief to sleep without visions of Voldemort or his uncle disturbing him. He was finally moving on from what had happened. Even though his scar frequently throbbed, Harry could easily ignore it. Maybe whatever was wrong with him was finally going away. After all, he hadn't heard from Dumbledore in a while, so that had to be a good sign.

Harry was now sitting beneath the willow tree beside the lake, watching as the sun's dying rays shone gently on the rippling water. Not wanting to be late for dinner, Harry stood up, stretching slowly. He gazed down at his reflection as he walked by, but then froze. Harry looked down again, his heart pounding. It was definitely his reflection he was staring at, except the eyes staring back at him were a dark red. As Harry stared in shock, his reflection grinned evilly at him, the crimson eyes glowing cruelly.

Harry could only stare blankly as his reflection slowly reached its arm out. Everything felt surreal as it pushed itself from the water and approached Harry, eying him as a hawk would its prey. However, Harry wasn't afraid. In fact, Harry felt a rush of adrenaline, and he stepped forward towards the now solid reflection holding its hand out patiently. After a moment of hesitation, Harry took its- no, his hand- and everything went dark.

_I love cliffhangers, unless I'm not writing the story, then it drive me crazy. Again, sorry for the long wait. Tune in next time to see what happens to poor Harry._


End file.
